Well, apprently someone with childhood issues from that sort of exchange is working them out, because, indeed, they are air conditioning the whole neighborhood here in LouAville.
We went down and visited the area where the finish line will be set up, and found that it has "out door air-conditioning". I'm torn; I don't know whether to be horrified by the global warming ramifications of this or somewhat thrilled that my finish line will be air conditioned. It will be nice for the people waiting, which means I might get a lot of screaming when I come down the chute (knock on, em, where is some, okay, WOOD) from the folks who are there, cool, and have been partying all night. What the hell; I'll get it however I can take it.
We've requested a 2:45 am wake up call.
My transition bags are hanging on pegs in a sea of 2000 other transition bags.
My bike is racked in a sea of 2000 other bikes.
I'll leave you, for now, with my last pre-race haikus:
In a sea of bikes
mine waits for me to find it
and ride to last place
It's all over but
the sweating, swearing and the
shouting of my name.